Hello everyone
It's all over now, the home has closed its doors and my final shift has ended. It was quite sad, the last resident left with tears in her eyes and so did I. Although I moaned about it, after ten years the place had become a second home, better in a lot of ways than my own.
I now have to find another job (easier said than done) as well as somewhere else to live. My paperwork has finally been processed by the council after five weeks and I can now bid on two bedroom properties, great, or so I thought, except that when I went on their website, there weren't any. Plenty of over 55's and three bed properties but no two's.
If I were honest, I'd rather have a one bedroom flat, just me and my cats. My home life is awful, I'm stuck with a 32 year old bad tempered, moody, sulky (let's throw all the adjectives in there) son who hasn't spoken to me for days (God knows why) The atmosphere is horrendous; I'd rather pass into the next life than live like this and believe me, that thought is never far from my mind.
However, I am in the perfect frame of mind to work on my novel and while I was on nights last week, managed to get a lot done. My main character is 14 year old Janet who has been bullied and tormented for most of her life. Just lately I have felt a strong connection with her; I can empathize. Her home life is horrible, she has no friends, she is an outcast and a loner, but to me she has become a friend and is more like me than I care to admit.
Maybe this will be the one to launch my career, maybe it won't; I don't know, but in this made up character I have found a friend.
Sunday 22 March 2015
Tuesday 3 March 2015
The End Is nigh Or Closer Than You Think.
Hello everyone
I've always been fairly optimistic, you know, things can't get any worse, the glass is always half full. Well they can get worse and my glass, along with my spirit is broken. I appear as a swan, or so I'm told, calm and serene on the surface, but paddling away furiously beneath just to stay afloat.
Last time I told you I was given six months to vacate my flat, well, if only that were still true. Along with my redundancy letter, I was given a new short term lease for the flat. Scanning the page quickly (I was at work) my eyes fell on the third paragraph, written in bold letters was the date 30th April. My stomach fell to my boots, my heart leapt into my mouth and I felt sick. I read the line again. Termination of short term tenancy 30th April.
I couldn't believe what I was reading, surely this couldn't be true; if it was, I had seven weeks left. I spoke to the owner who informed me this was indeed the case, (sorry but I want you out, NOW)
With my head reeling and my coffee threatening to leave my stomach at any second, I carried on with my duties in a daze, drove home at the end of the shift (I'm sure my car has autopilot) as I don't even remember the journey, sat down, cried and then put pen to paper . . . and wrote (I think) the most amazing, emotionally soaked piece of writing I've ever done.
Although it didn't solve my problems, it did make me feel better, (there had to be an outlet for those all those feeling) and I had something at the end of it. So however hopeless a situation seems, try writing it all down in story form, it's amazing how those feelings flood the page, emotions you can't get to unless you are actually experiencing them.
I've always been fairly optimistic, you know, things can't get any worse, the glass is always half full. Well they can get worse and my glass, along with my spirit is broken. I appear as a swan, or so I'm told, calm and serene on the surface, but paddling away furiously beneath just to stay afloat.
Last time I told you I was given six months to vacate my flat, well, if only that were still true. Along with my redundancy letter, I was given a new short term lease for the flat. Scanning the page quickly (I was at work) my eyes fell on the third paragraph, written in bold letters was the date 30th April. My stomach fell to my boots, my heart leapt into my mouth and I felt sick. I read the line again. Termination of short term tenancy 30th April.
I couldn't believe what I was reading, surely this couldn't be true; if it was, I had seven weeks left. I spoke to the owner who informed me this was indeed the case, (sorry but I want you out, NOW)
With my head reeling and my coffee threatening to leave my stomach at any second, I carried on with my duties in a daze, drove home at the end of the shift (I'm sure my car has autopilot) as I don't even remember the journey, sat down, cried and then put pen to paper . . . and wrote (I think) the most amazing, emotionally soaked piece of writing I've ever done.
Although it didn't solve my problems, it did make me feel better, (there had to be an outlet for those all those feeling) and I had something at the end of it. So however hopeless a situation seems, try writing it all down in story form, it's amazing how those feelings flood the page, emotions you can't get to unless you are actually experiencing them.
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